


Consequences of Jetlag

by paintstroke



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys In Love, Cozy, Finger Sucking, Fluff, Foreign Language, Language, Love, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Nipple Play, PWP, Smut, Spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9103102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintstroke/pseuds/paintstroke
Summary: The morning after Yuuri arrives in St. Petersburg he decides that this might be his one chance to wake Viktor up however he wants...Shameless fluffy smut, PWP.Japan is 6 hours ahead of St. Petersburg.





	

The darkness when Yuuri opened his eyes was a little bit disorienting. Had Viktor actually closed the heavy curtains to let him sleep in? Skepticism scratched out that thought even before he caught the faintly orange glow of streetlights in the darkness outside through the bare and lightly frosted glass. No, not a surprising display of consideration. Just the jetlag waking him up way too early. Or a dream? He shifted a little. The heavy weight of Viktor’s arm thrown around him was an anchor pinning him to this reality. Not a dream, then, but a reality that still felt like one. 

He was a little unsure of what to do, so he stayed still and quiet for a few moments, just revelling in the soft breathing beside him. Back with Viktor. Any time apart now felt like sand was getting stuck in the hourglass, seconds dragging painfully out into minutes and hours. 

Still, this wasn’t his usual morning. It was more usual for him to wake up, hands outstretched towards a Viktor shaped indent hours after the other man had left. And usually, he wasn’t the little spoon, since he often crawled into bed much later, burrowing into the side of an already fast-asleep Viktor. He liked the current feeling of Viktor curled around him though, even though it made him afraid to even breathe too deeply for fear of disturbing the other man. Viktor could be a worryingly light sleeper.

… on the other hand, Yuuri could only stay still for so long. 

He slid his hand underneath the pillow, giving in to the urge to check his phone. The clock glowed to light at the touch of the button. Home: 11:41am. Roaming 5:41am. Yup. Definitely the jetlag. It was unsettling to feel this awake this early. 

Yuuri pressed his face into the pillow, wondering if he could fall back asleep. The smell of fresh laundry, the soft whisper of expensive sheets against his cheek. Today it all conspired against him, every sensation radiating Viktor’s electric presence, making Yuuri’s heart thrum fiercely against his ribs. He was _home._ And since he wasn’t sleepy this morning… 

Yuuri undulated backwards, pressing his spine into Viktor’s chest, rolling gently from hips to shoulders as he maximized all contact. 

Even Yuuri’s knees fit perfectly back against Viktors, and Yuuri let out a unintended sigh as Viktor tucked in around him, just a little closer, flesh meeting flesh in a long unbroken line from toes to Viktor’s nose pressing into the back of Yuuri’s neck. 

The arm over his chest tightened. Soft syllables from behind him were murmured sleepily into his shoulder, and Yuuri grinned, unsure if it was Russian or a universal non-language of sleep-deprived humans.

Yuuri slowly rocked his hips in a teasing invitation. He pulled one of the hands up from his chest while Viktor was still pliant and unresisting with sleep, kissing the fingers gently, sweetly, lipping lightly at the golden band on Viktor’s finger.

Contented noises were pressed into the back of his neck.

But right now… Yuuri didn’t want _contented_. He wanted to pull Viktor from that contented, sleepy state and drop him straight into a pit of desperate need. 

He wanted a bit of payback.

Yuuri parted his lips, hyper aware of the feel of his own breath hot and damp and warm around Viktor’s hands. He pressed out his tongue, stroking it through the spaces between Viktor’s fingers. He used his own hand to help unfurl Viktor’s fingers, rubbing his lips against the relaxed tendons, sweeping his tongue into a swirl around the tip of one and slowly drawing it into his mouth. He tentatively played with the texture of the skin, letting his eyes drift close as he traced Viktor’s fingerprints, then licking longer paths as he started to suck gently, pulling the finger deeper into his mouth. 

The soft noises against his neck dissolved into rather sinful moans. 

He felt Viktor’s finger curl against his tongue, and Yuuri’s smile broke the suction for a moment, before he pulled gently back. “Good morning,” he whispered, and then used his tongue to convince two of the fingers back into his mouth. Viktor was definitely using words now, although the rolling, delicious syllables made no sense to Yuuri they definitely stirred up heat inside him, urging him on, more daring in his playful exploration. Sucking on Viktor’s fingers in a gentle rhythm, he started pushing his tongue between them, around them, wanting something else in his mouth. 

His hands on Viktor’s forearm held him there, and Viktor’s other arm snaked underneath his chest, pinning him back in a vice-like grip as hips rocked forward, Viktor’s fingers slid with maddening strength against his ribcage, tracing the edges of muscle and bone, barely letting up the pressure to move. When Viktor’s hand found his nipple a moan vibrated through Yuuri’s whole body. Viktor repeated the caress, then let up on the pressure, becoming feathery light and teasing.

The sudden scrape of Viktor’s manicured nail against the sensitive, hardening skin rocketed through Yuuri’s chest, sending heat curling lower and lower. The edge of pain was a burning pleasure, exquisite and all-consuming in that moment. Yuuri’s hips flung back into Viktor, and he arched his chest into the touch, demanding more. 

Yuuri’s breath became shaky, and he let go of the Viktor’s forearm to reach behind him, stroking an encouraging hand up Viktor’s sculpted side. He moaned through Viktor’s fingers, and a part of his brain – his quickly fogging up, lustful brain – knew that the Viktor loved the sensation of the vibration. 

This time was no exception. The response was immediate and powerful. Viktor’s body was going rigid, trembling, needy, near-frantic. Viktor shifted, half leaning up, throwing one impossibly long, supple leg over both of Yuuri’s, wrapping sinuously around them and pulling back tightly, holding Yuuri nearly immobile against him. 

Viktor kept circling the nipple, his touch gone light again, ghosting across the tip and sending whimpers spilling from Yuuri’s mouth, around Viktor’s fingers. 

Shivers danced across his spine as he felt the silky brush of Viktor’s hair against the junction of his shoulder and neck, moments before hot, wet lips latched onto his skin there and he moaned in earnest. “Yes!” 

“Oh Yuuri…” Teeth were drawn lightly across his shoulder, and he was sure his blood would be pulled from his thundering, pound veins up to under the fever-hot surface of his skin, drawn up to meet Viktor’s lips as if magnetized. Yuuri’s cock throbbed forward, bobbing off of his stomach with the force of his heartbeats, untouched and blindingly hard, leaking as if crying from lack of direct attention.

Viktor’s indrawn breath was shuddery as well, and his hands dug into the planes of Yuuri’s hips, holding his still as he slicked his cock up and down the cleft of Yuuri’s ass. The gentle caress of it moving past his sensitive entrance was enough to turn the gasped breaths to half-sobs. “Yuuri…” and it drove Yuuri insane that Viktor sounded so silky-cool, even if the edges of the name were drawn ragged with want. “I want so badly to fuck you like this,” Viktor murmured into Yuuri’s shoulder, hips rocking. The length of his rigid erection slid through the sweat between them. The blankets were too hot. Viktor was too hot. 

And it’s not what Yuuri imagined, not what he’d initially planned, but Viktor was a powerful erotic force, desire for Viktor like this had been burned into Yuuri’s brain, etched deeply over the years. His own thoughts were growing scattered; it had felt like so, _so_ long apart and last night wasn’t nearly enough and suddenly all he wanted was to be taken. “Yes!” he gasped, drowning in his own need. “Please,” he added, desperately. “Now,” he was running out of the capacity to remember any more English words. 

He was shifted as the Viktor’s hands left his chest, pulling out from underneath his body letting Viktor uncurl over the bed to get a condom and lube. Yuuri curled in on himself, trying to collect his breathing as the sounds of Viktor preparing himself filled the small bedroom with anticipation. 

And then Viktor was back, one arm again over Yuuri’s chest, the other trapped between them, pulling Yuuri back against him. Yuuri felt every nerve sing as Viktor slid a muscular thigh between his own. 

“Shh,” Viktor hushed him and he realized his breaths were charged with small whimpers and Yuuri wanted to cry because the last thing he could possibly do right now was - “relax…” But Viktor’s arm was warm around him, an intimate rendition of a thousand shared hugs. Yuuri curled his toes, catching Viktor’s own between the tips of his toes and the ball of his foot as he squirmed, craving Viktor to take him, to stop being so _oh,_ Yuuri didn’t know if it the right word was cool or so, so hot, setting every part of him on fire.  
Viktor’s hand stroked down his side, gentle, comforting. “Vik-Viktor…” Yuuri shut his eyes tightly, rocking back into Viktor’s _other_ hand, where it was maddeningly still curled calmly, just brushing the lower curve of his ass and not _doing_ anything. 

The hand on Yuuri’s side stroked lower, tracing electrifying swirls over skin, muscle and bone as it edged lower. Yuuri canted his hips forward, expecting to finally be touched, but Viktor pushed the languid, teasing stroke down the outside of his leg, instead of curving forward to Yuuri’s desperate need. The fingers caught the inside of his knee, buried into the hot press of flesh between his thigh and calf; pulling upwards. Yuuri let Viktor move him, however he wanted, whatever he wanted. “Please Viktor,” Yuuri mumbled into the pillow.

“Hush, pryanichek,” Viktor’s kisses were slow, gentle, infuriatingly hot and slow against his neck. Yuuri was dying, untouched. “It’s early…” Viktor’s voice was slow and sleepy as well, rolling edges of this accent smoothing the words. “This early… things should be taken slow... savored.”

Yuuri felt like at some point his blood must have been replaced with magma. He was so ready to be touched. “Fuck me,” Yuuri countered Viktor’s poetic thoughts with a gasping plea, eyes squinted shut against the explicit words. 

Viktor’s tongue swept gently over the shell of Yuuri’s ear. His hum sounded like agreement but he didn’t change his gentle pace. He sucked lightly on the skin underneath Yuuri’s ear and his lips were so hot and perfect and so damn slow…

“So impatient…” Viktor commented, sounding delighted. 

Yuuri moaned and turned his head deeper into the pillow. “So unfair!” 

There was a soft laugh, it made his stomach flip, dizzy and weightless and cradled in this soft, unreal, dreamy bed, so turned on and so powerless against the weight of that desire. His cock leaked into the luxury sheets, even untouched as it was. 

“How is this unfair, my katsudon?” Viktor’s words sparked fires under Yuuri’s skin; the teasing voice could promise release, or hours of exquisite torture. 

Yuuri panted into the pillow for a moment, the pillows hopefully muffling the noise, his own breath hot and stifling as he tried to breath, tried to relax, tried to take back some measure of control. He twisted his face back up, gulping in the cool apartment air - heart still racing, embers still fueling wildfires where Viktor’s supple, strong body touched his own. “Unfair,” he repeated, taking longer than usual to string together something that would convey even part of what he meant in his second language, “because I wanted to put you in this state…” he looked for Viktor out of the corner of his eye, twisting back to try to look over his shoulder.

The fingers between them started to trace flickering, slippery patterns just under the curve of his ass, where his upper thigh met his rear. “Oh?” Viktor purred, sounding interested. “Tell me what you were thinking, hmm?”

Oh of course Viktor would ask that, Yuuri moaned and pulled the pillow over his head. This was all too much he could barely remember his name and he could barely find words at the best of times and now all he wanted was to touch and feel and lose himself by Viktor’s side again…

“Hmm?” Viktor crooned, pulling the pillow from Yuuri with inevitable force. “Come here,” he pulled Yuuri back into that tight hug, a warm, strong cocoon of a man wrapped around him. He tucked Yuuri against his body, making sure that Yuuri was over on his pillow, comfortable. “Don’t even think about it, just tell me.”

An entirely different type of moan escape Yuuri’s through, the emotion unable to be contained in his chest as Viktor’s slippery fingers finally stopped playing with the tops of his thighs, finally crested and dipped into the cleft of his ass. They ran in shivery, wet trails; those slow torturous lines tracing along his perineum. Yuuri gasped and his hips etched helpless little arcs backwards and Viktor seemed to steadfastly refuse to linger where he wanted that touch so, so badly. 

_Oh._ This would be one of _those_ games. “I-I….” Yuuri scrambled to find the words. “I wanted to wake you up with a blow job…” he admitted, embarrassment burning through his desire.

Viktor was cruel. Yuuri could feel the smile against the back of his neck. 

“Oh? After everything we did last night? Oh, _Yuuri,_ you’re positively insatiable....” Yuuri felt his cock jerk at the way Viktor’s tongue rolled around his name. 

Yuuri steadied himself with a shaky breath, eyes still shut tightly against the reality of his words. “I wanted to see you wake up… with me… like that… below you…” 

Finally, finally, Viktor’s wrist steadied against him, fingertips tracing concentrated circles around his ass. 

Bless Viktor. He didn’t seem to care that Yuuri’s stories were nowhere near as creative as the filthy ideas he seemed to have a surplus supply of, ready to dance out across his silver tongue at the slightest hint that Yuuri did - or especially did not - want to hear them. No, instead Viktor’s own breathing picked up, and he continued to kiss what he could reach; encouraging Yuuri with his lips and tongue on the back of his neck, nuzzling the lengthening raven hair out of his way with puffs of breath that hinted at his own state. 

“I wanted to...aaaah,” Yuuri sank back into Viktor as he felt the tip of a finger finally enter him, slick with lube. His body remembered the activities from the night before; it was less tense than usual. Yuuri slowly let himself melt backwards into the sensation, humming distractedly with his pleasure. “I wanted to… see you come apart… beneath me…” his voice was rapidly going ragged, whispery and hoarse as he struggled to keep enough words together to keep his sentence coherent. 

“Oooh….” Viktor’s purr was silk in Yuuri’s ear, and Yuuri let himself just enjoy the warmth, the stretch, as Viktor's finger pushed deeper, until he could feel Viktor’s other fingers bracketing his hole.

Viktor picked up a slow rhythm, the slide of his finger easy, teasing. When his other arm left the hug he’d been cradling Yuuri’s chest in, it dipped low on his stomach. Yuuri’s muscles started an involuntary contraction at the gentle touch. “Oh yes please yes…” Yuuri whispered, giving a little whimper as Viktor took ahold of his rigid cock - the caress of Viktor’s gentle fist was silken and warm and close to overwhelming him already.

And just like that he was trapped; torn between two amazing sensations. Viktor’s hand stroking up slowly, his finger pressing almost lazily into him. He wanted to buck forward, backwards, anything, speed this up, let himself go to completion. 

“Oh oh...oh…” his voice nearly broke as Viktor smoothly slipped a second finger in, pressing gently at the ring of muscle. Yuuri was lost to the sensations, drifting hazily in happy, warm enjoyment, Viktor moving too easily with him when he tried to increase the speed, enforcing a languid pace. He was getting his serene morning after all. 

“Yura, do you really want this? You’re still so open for me from last night… I don’t want to hurt you….”

Gentle words. Gentle, concerned words from Viktor. It took Yuuri a moment to reply, a terrifying moment of trying to decipher the English, to find the right words to respond with, a stomach flipping moment where Viktor’s hand stilled against him, a break in the waves of the pleasure. “Doesn’t hurt.” Yuuri reassured Viktor. “Want this.” He felt Viktor nuzzling against the hair that clung to his neck, damp with sweat. Viktor probably meant it to be calming, but Viktor was mistaken - Yuuri’s desire was running rampant, and any touch from Viktor was electrifying. 

Yuuri went still in a moment of anxiety as the fingers left him empty, tilting his hips forward into the hand stroking along his length. “Hai, Viktor, onegai-” He pulled in a shaky breath “I can - mmmm…” he dissolved into a moan when instead of fingers, he felt the blunt head of Viktor’s cock press against his entrance. “Oh-hai…” languages spilled together as his mind short circuited, pleasure crashing through his synapses instead of thoughts.

Yuuri took into little sips of air, hardly daring to exhale and the pitch of the breaths rapidly increased. His hands spasmed into fists in the sheets. 

Viktor’s lips pressed close to his ear. “Ti vaskhititelen,” he whispered in an achingly precise way, still so in control, so measured, absolutely the opposite of what Yuuri could manage. The tone of sweet affection and the way Viktor’s tongue rolled over the unfamiliar syllables surged together, competing to see which could undo Yuuri further. 

Yuuri tried to manage a question in response, tried briefly to get a translation, but his questioning “Hmm?” was lost in the barrage of gasps and moans pulled from his throat. He stretched back into Viktor as he adjusted to the length pushing inside of him. The hand over his cock grew even more gentle, now just the hint of fingerpads against him, drawing soft wavering lines over and over before even that was gone, Viktor’s hand moving up to brace against his hip, pinning him motionless against the bed. There was no room for anything except the _sensations_ inside his head. 

Viktor’s slow press inwards seemed to take forever. Yuuri tilted his head back and _mewled_ with pleasure when he felt Viktor’s hips finally press against the curve of his ass. Viktor shifted, pushing his lower arm between Yuuri and the bed, holding him tight in an intimate hug as Yuuri’s rapid breathing dissolved into longer exhales. 

His mind –his heart– were soaring, weightless in the lightening skies above the warm bed, above the embrace of his love. “Oh,” Yuuri, said, all he could manage, trying to put even a fraction of the love and wonder and pleasure he felt into the only syllable he could form. _“Oh.”_

Yuuri’s inhales grew more steady as he adjusted, the slight pain of the stretch easing into pleasure. The breathing in his ear, on the other hand, was beginning to hitch slightly, Viktor growing slightly more unsteady, although none of that was transmitted through the fierce, unwavering embrace he held Yuuri in. 

Usually Yuuri would be the one to make the first tentatively movements, setting an initial pace when Viktor topped. Yuuri hesitantly tried, unable to get much movements of his hips in this position, mostly still curled up in front of Viktor and afraid to move too much. 

Apparently it was enough though. “How does that feel?” Viktor breathed, but underneath his sultry tone Yuuri could hear the signs that this was affecting him as well - the way the English words caught slightly, less fluid than usual, a deeper edge charging the words with the tension of anticipation. 

“Perfect,” Yuuri whispered back without thinking, and he could feel Viktor’s soft chuckle thrum through his chest, as Viktor moved to slowly thread his fingers through Yuuri’s, entangling them further together. Viktor laughs when he’s happy, and Yuuri couldn’t stop smiling in response, especially when his blurry vision caught the first hints of pale morning light flashing on their rings. 

It _was_ perfect. 

And then Viktor started moving and Yuuri had a brief to wonder if there was a superlative for perfect in English because _oh,_ this was too good. It wasn’t a large movement, just a gentle rolling of the hips behind him, waves of movement that he could feel through the abdominals pressed against his lower back. The friction was amazing, movements languid and…

Perfect.

His mind couldn’t fill in any other word anymore. 

Yuuri let out a long happy hum of contentment. Viktor echoed in kind, settling into an easy rhythm. His knees pushed into the backs of Yuuri’s with each gentle, slow, stroke. Unable to move much, Yuuri relaxed into the moment, his former frenzied desire plateauing in a rush of love for the man behind him making him feel so… cherished. 

_I love you._ The words echoed every heartbeat, chased every kiss that Viktor planted on his neck and shoulder. 

The undulations of Viktor’s hips were gathering more pauses, little breaks where he could hear Viktor’s breath catch and feel the racing heart pressed against his back. Yuuri moved slowly, unfurling his legs from his curled position, stretching out a bit more. He opened his hips gently, sliding his upper leg up and over Viktor’s, running his toes down Viktor’s calf until he could hook his toes there, gaining a bit of leverage. 

The warmth and perception of love around him let Yuuri make himself vulnerable, splay out a bit like this. Shyness still brought a blush to his cheeks, but like this, where he doesn’t have to face Viktor’s expression it’s also easier to be bold. He took their linked hands, skimming down the front of his body slowly. Viktor’s rhythm falters completely, and Yuuri is glad his smile is hidden, as Viktor pants into the nape of his neck, trying to regain control. 

Yuuri doesn’t linger long though, tracing a direct path low to the need that throbbed between his legs. “I want to come with you,” he whispered to the air in front of him, knowing that Viktor was already close, knowing that this would be a challenge for them both. He hesitated a moment, spreading his fingers to let Viktor pull his hand free, to let Yuuri touch himself. He wrapped his familiar hand around his straining erection. Viktor’s hand immediately caressed forward again, wrapping around Yuuri’s lightly. With a few strokes it was clear that Viktor meant to follow here, not lead. 

Yuuri could feel the heat of embarrassment creep up to his ears. He stroked steadily upwards, pausing at the head of his cock, using his thumb to tease the crown, sweeping through an almost shameful amount of precum. Viktor’s fingers ghosted over his own, tracing the pattern he took, pressing into the rhythms. He had no doubt that Viktor’s sharp mind was memorizing this choreography too; learning this routine in a way that Yuuri was sure he’d pay sweetly for in the future. That train of thought sent him closer to the point of no return. 

Viktor’s hand suddenly tightened over his own, and Yuuri made a soft gasp at the sudden increase in pressure, taking it as a cue to speed up his strokes. He felt the soft slide of silver hair against his neck as Viktor twisted and went rigid, leaning forward behind him, a small distance forced between their bodies for the first time since this started. 

_“Oh,”_ Yuuri moaned, feeling the pulsing sensation through the tight ring of muscles wrapped around Viktor’s cock. Viktor rocked forward a few times, and Yuuri played with tensing around Viktor’s cock in answer to those faint pulses, feeling dizzy and powerful at the noises Viktor made in response. Each stroke of Yuuri’s hand was bringing him closer to meet Viktor there. He braced his toes upwards against Viktor’s calf, pressing his chest forward as he started to tense. Viktor pulled in a few long breaths at his back, and giving up on following the faster rhythm Yuuri’s hand was taking, fell down to trace swirling lines across his balls, warm fingers teasing them as they pulled up against his body. The combination of Viktor’s gentle, soft touches and his rapid palm rocketed Yuuri towards that cliff. His whole body began to contract and he moaned as he ratcheted upwards, higher and higher before he spilled over that orgasmic cliff, falling through stars as he collapsed back onto the bed, seed shooting hot and warm into the sheets.

It was moments before he was even aware that his pounding heart was still inside a body. His senses _glowed_ , the world blazing hotter than should have been possible in the cool Russian dawn. Somewhere distant, Viktor was moving, Yuuri could hear the faint wet snap of the condom as Viktor dealt with the aftermath. He was still spinning, drunk on ecstasy, his body boneless and melting into the pillows as his heartbeat slowed. He was aware of Viktor returning, lying down again on his back, arms pulling Yuuri up almost on top of him. Vaguely Yuuri realized that took him away from the wet streaks through the sheets. 

He turned and looked up at Viktor. His slightly blurred features were etched with silver light from the low morning sun, ocean-blue eyes standing out brilliantly. The dawn had broken as a paler shades of greys and blues, low winter angles lighting the gigantic, soft expanse of bed seem lit from the side. Yuuri looked down, and enchanted by the light across their bodies, and traced the line between shadow and sunlight tattooed over Viktor’s arm.

“So?” Viktor asked a question with lips against Yuuri’s hair, placing kisses in the messy dark waves. “Have I convinced you to like mornings?” 

Viktor sounded entirely too clear, too bright. Yuuri’s world was still a fuzzy blend of glasses-free blur and post-orgasmic haze. Yuuri sleepily leaned back against Viktor, spent and too blissfully happy to direct complaints against Viktor’s cheerfulness. “You can probably convince me to like anything if you persuade me like that…” he murmured honestly, pushing his fingers through Viktor's and holding them close to his chest, against his heart. 

Viktor hummed a contented agreement. “We can test that,” he promised. He pulled Yuuri closer. 

Despite the sheen of sweat that still clung to him, despite the feverishly warm touch of Viktor along his side, Yuuri felt a shiver run down his spine. 

His fiance was going to be the death of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. I speak neither Russian nor Japanese; apologies for any mistakes. The internet gave me the following translations:
> 
> pryanichek - Russian pet name; sort of 'gingerbread', sweet but spicy  
> (Ты восхитителен) - Ti vaskhititelen - You are so delightful/adorable  
> **Russian edited 29/12/16 - Thanks @rogovich!  
> onegai - please (begging)  
> **Edited from 'onegai shimasu' 20/04/17 - Thanks @mia826  
> hai - yes
> 
> Come tumble with me at [her-paintstrokes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/her-paintstrokes) where I mostly save pretty pictures, but also sometimes post excepts and updates.


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